Chapter 1-Brit

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*A/N-Alright guys, this is my second shot at writing a non-fanfiction. I didn't really like the "I Dare You" so I'm gonna try another one. Let me know if y'all like it!

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“Brittany Conoway, you’re under arrest for the consumption of alcohol while under the age of twenty-one,” the burly cop, Sheriff Douglas pronounced.

I scrutinized the field around me for my so-called friends. But the grass was only littered with trash, not a person or car in sight. I felt the despair build up at the thought of my friends bailing on me. Leaving me to deal with the cop alone, in this kind of state.

The cold metal bit into my skin as handcuffs were clamped around my wrists. My eyes stung as I looked up through watery eyes at the sheriff. 

“It’s not fair,” I sobbed, “My parents are going to kill me.” I knew my words were coming out slurred, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to go to jail. I searched the sheriff’s face for any sign of sympathy, but all I found was disgust as he lead me to the cop car and the blinding, flashing lights. This emotion confused me. I had known this man for years, he had been the sheriff since I was born. This wasn’t the norm for me, doing something illegal, so he must have known something was up. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Please Sheriff Douglas,” I begged, “You know me. Just let me call my parents and they can come pick me up. I can’t get arrested. It’ll ruin everything.”

Sheriff Douglas only looked at me with repulsion, as if I were a filthy cockroach that had crawled onto his dinner plate. “You have the right to remain silent,” he began in a monotone voice. I felt the hopelessness in my chest, knowing he wouldn’t listen, “Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law...”

9 hours earlier.

“Good work Miss Conoway,” My teacher, Mrs. Jacobson said, placing my English paper on my desk. A big red ninety-eight was written at the top of the paper. I smiled inwardly at myself, proud that I had done such a great job on my paper. English was my favorite subject, and I was pretty good at it.

I heard a groan from behind me. I glanced back at my best friend, Kate. She, on the other hand, was not. Mrs. Jacobson slapped the assignment down on Kate’s desk. Slashed across the top were the numbers five and seven, the lowest of the two in the front. “Come on Mrs. Jacobson, it couldn’t have been that bad,” Kate grumbled.

“It could always be worse,” Mrs. Jacobson replied, slapping the next paper down. Another groan escaped from the boy behind Kate.

“Yeah, it definitely could be,” James Cox sighed. The brown-eyed boy turned his gaze on me and smiled. The blood rushed to my cheeks. I may have had a bit of a crush on the blond-haired senior quarterback. He would probably be playing Division I college football if he could just get his grades high enough to graduate from high school.

James nodded his head at me. “What’d you make Brit?” I opened my mouth to answer, but an angry voice stopped me.

“You know you don’t have to tell him your grade just because he asked,” Mrs. Jacobson said, glaring at James. I wasn’t exactly sure why Mrs. Jacobson was so worked up about this. James looked at me expectantly, as if he hadn’t heard her. So when she turned away, I mouthed him my grade, even though I felt like I shouldn’t have. 

James scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking away from me and to his buddy, Tristan Stator, dumber than a rock, and muttered something to him. They both laughed and looked at me. I felt my face flush, and turned away from them, slumping in my seat. Mrs. Jacobson had been right, I shouldn’t have told James my grade. Now he would just call me a nerd, and a geek, and a know-it-all, and a teacher’s pet, just like he always mockingly did. He was joking when he called me those names, but I could always sense the hidden meanness underneath. 

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